


Staring Back

by superqueerdanvers



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (specifically he was born with one foot), Amputee Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Disability, Disabled Author, Gen, He/Him Pronouns For Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Wears a Skirt, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Takes place in early season 5, trans author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superqueerdanvers/pseuds/superqueerdanvers
Summary: As a visibly disabled trans person, Jon has always felt eyes on him. And as much as he would like it to, hiding or ignoring the stares doesn't solve anything.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95





	Staring Back

Jon had always felt eyes on him. As a child, he had hated the inevitable stares that came when he wore shorts, had dreaded the question “What happened to your leg?” As time went on, he developed a standard answer – “I was born without it” – short, simple, didn’t usually invite follow-up questions – but answering the question didn’t mean he was happy about it. And he avoided the stares and questions when he could, wearing long trousers and choosing a plain socket to match his skin tone rather than an eye-catching pattern.

And then he’d started to explore his gender, and felt even more eyes on him. He played with clothes, his hair, binding, and he could feel people looking at him, trying to figure out if he was a man or a woman. He went on T and began to be read as a man, but his long hair and love of skirts still drew attention. He could look in the mirror and see himself the way he wanted to look, but he hated the stares that came when he dressed that way in public. And so he put his skirts back in the closet and presented as a binary man.

When he’d started working in the Archives, he had tried to do the same thing – discrediting statements as much as he could, ignoring the feeling of being watched, hiding his fear behind a layer of prickly professionalism – but of course it hadn’t worked. The statements were real, and the Eye watched, and he became the Archivist.

And the scars he accumulated drew yet more attention. Even when he wore a simple, conservative suit, with his prosthesis covered and hair pulled back into a neat bun, people stared at the worm scars dotting his face and hands.

* * *

Now he sat in the safe house, curtains drawn against the eyes that filled the sky. If he couldn’t see them, maybe they couldn’t see him. If he ignored the screams outside, maybe he and Martin could be safe.

But hiding forever had never been a real option. There were always days it was simply too hot to wear long trousers, days he couldn’t bring himself to put back the skirt and tie up his hair. His leg, his gender, his scars – he was only becoming more visibly different over time, and pretending he wasn’t only made him miserable.

And ignoring the stares had never made them go away. Sure, it took less energy, less effort than dealing with them directly, and most of the time, he couldn’t be bothered to do more than ignore them. But people still stared. They generally knew it was rude, and they might feel bad about it, but that didn’t keep them from looking when they thought he wouldn’t notice.

No, what actually got people to stop staring was confronting them. Looking them in the eye so they knew he saw them, asking pointedly if they had any questions. Making them as seen as he was. And so when the statement about the cabin ended, he knew what he had to do.

When he and Martin set out for the Panopticon, he wore a loose skirt that ended just above his knees.


End file.
